The first day of preschool has come and gone. J was a model child, not crying or putting up a fuss, participating gamely when asked, "reading" calmly by himself, and generally having a great time. He left happy but famished, since they only had "goldy fish and grum crackers" for snack, and he is used to grazing all morning, but I had brought cold pizza in the event this was the case, so both boys munched contentedly on the ride home. He brought home a certificate of completion of his first day and the first of what I am sure will be endless art projects, black beans glued into the shape of the first letter of his name above the line "my name is the first gift my parents gave me." Awwwww. Though, technically, in many cases, I would argue that life might be the first gift, but let's not get technical, shall we? It's a religious preschool, so today, his first Friday, "we went to the temple." Turns out, he meant chapel, which he noted had colored windows and was really good for singing. They sat on the "stage" and sang and heard a story about Noah. J was happy as a clam to participate, since he has already learned that participation gets him brownie points both at home and at school, AND this just the sort of thing they do in Nursery at our church, though he was a little miffed that he didn't already know the song they sang, and I didn't have the heart to tell him I am sure he will not be familiar with most of the songs at chapel since many of our Primary songs are not your usual Presbyterian standards.
While J has been away, Baby E and I have run some errands (on the first day, we also tried to avoid getting soaked by a sudden monsoon. We failed but were by then in our own driveway, thank goodness). On the first trip to a store, when we got out of the car and I put E down to hold his hand until we got to the carts, he looked back at the car perplexedly and stopped walking, waiting for J to appear. In fact, he has done something similar every day, such as running into J's room and then coming back to me frowning when he can't find him there. J, on the other hand, has started saying things like "No babies allowed!" So they appear to be handling their separation in appropriate albeit opposing ways! They haven't been apart for any major length of time since I went to my grandmother's funeral and took only Baby E, and he was just about 5 or 6 months old then.
I've been amazed at what I can get done with just one child again! I can see the floor in my office again, all the calls I've been meaning to make I have finally made, and our newly revamped emergency kits are almost done! I've also started letting Baby E watch the accursed baby signing DVD since he is apparently not going to talk any other way any time soon, and he finds it endlessly entertaining, just as J did. I find if I put him in his high chair and let him watch it at a very low volume, I can busy myself around the house such that I am able to hear him but not the insipid songs. Huzzah! Everyone wins!